


confidence is key (in love, and denial)

by mdmaverickk



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 04:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17860736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdmaverickk/pseuds/mdmaverickk
Summary: They’ve been friends for years, so Yongsun knows Byulyi’s schtick. She’s had almost every pick-up line imaginable thrown in her general direction, each delivered with impeccable, effortless, cringey charisma (or, what Byul thinks is an attempt at charisma).Yongsun humors her, because she knows that Byulyi means it all in jest, of course. Byulyi isn’t interested in her, and that doesn’t bother her in the least.No, most definitely not.





	confidence is key (in love, and denial)

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t written anything for months, and the first thing I come up with is a moonsun college!AU because I am Trash.
> 
> Anyhoo, enjoy.

She watches Byulyi saunter across the dance floor, maneuvering from group to group. Girl to girl.  Smiling in that mysterious, suave way of hers that usually induces in Yongsun a deep, deep desire to retch.

 

The fact of the matter is - Byulyi believes, with all of her heart, that she is one hell of a smoothtalker. She walks with the absolute confidence of a casanova, despite all evidence to the contrary (read: their friends actively express disdain at her corny tendencies), and Yongsun is convinced that her cringey pickup lines would be entirely ineffective if she wasn’t so goddamn dashing about it. Trite one-liners about fallen angels delivered with a honeyed tongue, and these girls fall left, right and center for the idiot as if she were Princess Charming. It boggles the mind, truly.

 

Byulyi turns to a new pretty face, drink in hand, and Yongsun feels another wave of disgust hit her. Yes, she thinks, it must be disgust, at how ridiculous these girls are being. At how ridiculous Byulyi is being. It settles in her stomach as bile and burns at her cheeks with indignancy. It was most definitely not because Byulyi has not looked in her general direction all night, even though _she_ is typically the target of Byulyi’s unwanted, undesired attention.

 

No, most certainly not.

 

“Unnie,” Hyejin is suddenly sidling up to her with a shot of something that looks vile. “You look upsettingly sober. Or just upset, really. Here.”

 

The glass is shoved into her hand unceremoniously, and Hyejin melds back into the thronging mass of dancing bodies before Yongsun can even blink. She eyes the drink warily — calling herself a lightweight would be an understatement, and she has no real desire to be too inebriated tonight. But her field of vision falls to yet another girl that Byulyi is chatting up, and she throws the shot back without a second thought, alcohol clawing down her throat as she storms over to the bar for another.

 

———

 

It is two in the morning.

 

Yongsun’s head swims as she watches Byulyi fumble with the keys to her apartment, fingers stiff from the chilly February air. She’s not all that drunk, truthfully, but Byulyi’s body is warm, and she isn’t opposed to leaning against it for a little while longer.

 

The door finally gives way, and Byulyi grunts as she tugs them both into the warmth of her abode. “Here,” she marches Yongsun over to settle her down on the bed. “I’ll take the couch.”

 

Yongsun flops against the sheets with a dramatic groan, throwing an arm over her face. She peeks out from beneath her forearm, watching Byulyi hover, putting a respectable distance between them. The fact that the girl was behaving herself bothered her, somehow.

 

“All these years of insinuating that you’d like to bring me home,” she jabs an accusatory finger in the air. “I finally do so willingly, and you’re just going to stand there like an idiot?”

 

Byulyi laughs, as light and mirthful and flippant as ever. It makes Yongsun impatient, fueled by the liquid courage still brewing in her gut. Goading her to be reckless, for once.

 

“I’m being serious.”

 

“You’ve had too much to drink, yeba,” Byulyi replies, looking at her in a quiet, affectionate sort of way. The restraint in her tone frustrates Yongsun to no end. She wants something to happen. Wants Byulyi to choose for the both of them.

 

She wants, and wants. She doesn’t know what she wants.

 

“Fine,” Yongsun grumbles, rolling away and curling up onto her side. “You’re all talk, Moon Byulyi.”

 

Silence. Yongsun feels an odd sense of disappointment at the lack of a reaction, but chooses not to dwell on it. Her head is far too muddled for her to be thinking about the implications of words already said and choices already made. She wills herself to ignore the source of her frustration standing next to her, waiting for the inevitable padding of feet as Byulyi retreats to the couch outside, leaving Yongsun with too much space for her lonesome.

 

Instead, she jumps as she feels the bed dip behind her, an arm winding itself around her waist and fingers curling into the indents of her hipbones. Yongsun freezes up in an instant, tensing as a warmth settles itself against her back. Her proximity to Byulyi sends her thoughts running together in an endless stream of noise, coming at too rapid a pace for her to process. If her mind wasn’t addled enough by the alcohol before, it sure as hell was confused now.

 

“Is this alright?” Byulyi whispers at a volume that is far too intimate for something that doesn’t exist. She swallows the lump in her throat, and nods.

 

Byulyi’s breathing evens out quickly, but Yongsun lies wide awake for at least an hour more. Her thoughts continue to blare in her head, and the hand on her hip is distracting, searing into her skin like the burn of the alcohol earlier that night. She eventually forces herself to close her eyes, but sleep does not come easy

 

(She wakes the next morning to find Byulyi lying next to her, propped up by an arm and a dopey expression on her face.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

“Because,” two fingers grab a hold of her left cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

 

Byulyi guffaws at the groan she elicits, fleeing the bed as Yongsun attempts to sock her in the gut.

 

They are back to normal, whatever their normal is.)

 

———

 

“I don’t have a type.”

 

The four of them meet up for a meal at least once a week, when their class schedules permit. Wheein snorts into her lunch.  

 

“Krystal? YooA? What about Seulgi?” 

 

Byulyi scrunches her nose in distaste. “I did not have a crush on Seulgi.”

 

“Sure,” Wheein has her shit-eating grin plastered on, which is all the warning Yongsun gets that the girl is up to no good. “Look, unnie, there’s no shame in liking younger women-“

 

Byulyi lunges at Wheein while Hyejin downright cackles. Yongsun finds herself fixated on the fact that she is a year older than Byulyi.

 

“Are you calling me a cougar?” 

 

“Yes,” Wheein smiles sweetly, despite the fist that Byulyi has in her collar. “But that’s not the end of it.”

 

“Dark-haired and beautiful?” Hyejin chimes in. Yongsun picks at the freshly dyed blonde strands lining her face.

 

“Good at dancing-“ Yongsun has two left feet.

 

“Oh and,” Wheein laughs. “They have to be shorter than you.”

 

Well, at least she had one thing going for her.

 

Yongsun isn’t Byulyi’s type. This isn’t news to her — she had been Byulyi’s main sounding board whilst the girl was still pining for Krystal, listening to her expound on the numerous ways that Yongsun was most definitely Not KrystalTM. It hadn’t bothered her then.

 

So, why did it bother her now?

 

Byulyi huffs as she rises to her feet. “You two are insufferable, and I’m late for class.”

 

“Spoilsport,” Wheein pouts, but waves the girl away. “Later, unnie.” 

 

Yongsun gazes at Byulyi’s plaid-covered back as she stalks away,  still obviously miffed. A deep sense of unease remained in her gut, bubbling in a queer combination of confusion and...disappointment? She was disappointed that she was, indubitably, not Byulyi’s type. And that, probably mean that-

 

Oh, god.

 

“Hey, earth to Kim Yongsun.”

 

She blinks out of her reverie to see concern in the eyes of one Jung Wheein, waving a hand across her face belatedly. “You okay there, unnie? Something wrong?”

 

“No, no, it’s nothing,” Yongsun says hurriedly. She thinks she sees Hyejin and Wheein exchange a knowing glance, which only serves to unsettle her further.

 

“Nothing at all.”

———

 

Nothing much had changed, and yet everything was different.

 

The mere sight of Byulyi was starting to weigh heavily on Yongsun’s conscience, and that in itself was problematic, considering that her entire daily routine revolved around the damn girl. Classes, lunches, study sessions, jam nights with Wheein and Hyejin - every waking moment with Byulyi was another moment spent flustered, confused, and outright panicked at Byulyi’s chivalry, Byulyi’s charisma, Byulyi’s entire existence, etc.

 

So, Yongsun begins to wake up later in the mornings, just enough to run to class and have little choice but to sit at the very back (far away from the seat that Byulyi has saved her). She reneges on their daily study plans, citing countless assignments and midterms and what-have-yous that she inadvertently needs to deal with, _alone_ (even though she’s often said that Byulyi helps her concentrate). It’s a little bit harder to weasel out of their biweekly jam sessions, but Yongsun makes it a point to hightail it out of there as soon as she is able to (before Byulyi can get a word in edgewise).

 

By the third week of her endless string of excuses, Yongsun can’t help but notice the forlorn look in Byulyi’s eye as she walks away for the umpteenth time. It haunts her as she flees to the relatively safety of her apartment, settling over her in a thick cloud of woe and regret that sends her spiraling into the dark depths of despair for hours on end.

 

It takes a sharp knock on her door to finally cut through the fog in her head. Yongsun doesn’t really think as she paces over to answer it. Doesn’t really think as she throws the door open, only to see the one, the only, Moon Byulyi, standing just beyond the threshold.

 

Nowhere to run now.

 

“Long time no see, stranger,” Byulyi says, quietly. The girl has a steely look to her eyes, at which Yongsun feels a pang of guilt for no doubt being the cause of. “Can I come in?”

 

Reluctantly, Yongsun steps aside, allowing Byulyi into her domain. She shuts the door behind her, leaving the two in a dreadfully awkward silence. Yongsun desperately wishes that the floor would open up and swallow her whole, saving her from having to go through a conversation that she knows could not, and will not, end well.

 

Yet, she is the one that had been making a conscious effort to avoid the other girl. Despite her deep-seated urge for self-preservation, Yongsun feels the need to apologize. But the words feel heavy as they wrap themselves around her tongue, stuck fast at the base of her throat. All she can do is stare blankly at Byulyi, utterly dumbstruck and at a complete loss for words.

 

Byulyi beats her to it. “Did I do something wrong?”

 

“No,” Yongsun is quick to deny. “No, you didn’t do anything. It’s just-“

 

‘ _It’s not you, it’s me,_ ’ she thinks. She briefly considers voicing the age-old adage, but it feels far too cliché for the sincerity that Yongsun would mean it with.

 

“It’s just, what?” Byulyi frowns.

 

Yongsun tries desperately to formulate some kind of response, but her words fail her. There are too many options and too many caveats to every sentence she could possibly string together at this point. How do you tell a girl, who has been flirting with you for the better part of three years as a longstanding inside _joke_ , that you like her?

 

But Byulyi doesn’t give her enough time to think, stepping forward and grabbing her hands in full earnestness. “Yong, it’s just me,” she pleads. “Please be honest with me.”

 

Byulyi must feel how clammy her palms are. Perhaps she is close enough to hear the thundering of Yongsun’s heartbeat, the elevated pace of her breathing, the buzzing of her thoughts. Byulyi is looking at her with such openness, such sincerity, with the slightest hint of guilt as she implored for an answer from Yongsun. For forgiveness for something she does not understand. Yongsun wants nothing more than to kiss that frown away.

 

Well, she thinks. Fuck it.

 

She barely has the time to register the surprise in Byulyi’s eyes as she leans in, tilting her head slightly to the right as a pair of lips fall squarely onto her own and-

 

Oh.

 

_Oh._

 

Every thought, every impulse, every feeling that Yongsun has had in the last three years suddenly makes sense, in the grander scheme of things. The puzzle pieces click and fall into place. The fates will the stars and planets into perfect alignment, and tell her that they see romance in the cards.

 

It takes a moment, but her mind finally catches up to the present, and Yongsun gives herself whiplash from the speed that she detaches herself from Byulyi. Her thoughts are a mess, her words won’t come out right. She just, she did, but, why did she, she doesn’t know-

 

Yongsun startles as Byulyi steps up to her wordlessly, closing the gap between them. Hands rising to gently, firmly cup her cheeks as she leans in.

 

And Yongsun is lost to the stars once more. 

 

———

 

“So, like, the two of you are a thing now, right?”

 

Yongsun looks absolutely bewildered as Byulyi coughs up her sandwich. Hyejin doesn’t wait for a response.

 

“Byul-unnie has been making googly eyes at you for the last hour, and I haven’t heard a single word of protest or disgust,” Hyejin muses.

 

Yongsun is stunned. “I, no, that’s not-“

 

“Hah!” Wheein shouts in triumphant glee. “Pay up, Hyejin.”

 

They both watch in silent disbelief as Hyejin retrieves a twenty dollar bill with a grumble, sliding it across the table to a gloating Jung Wheein. Yongsun couldn’t decide if she should be insulted, or mortified.

 

“The two of you placed bets on whether we would get together?” Byulyi asks, practically growling.

 

“No, no,” Wheein grins, waving her prize money between her fingers. “We made a bet on _how long_ it would take the two of you to get together, ever since we noticed Yong-unnie acting all iffy. I said under a month, and to the victor goes the spoils.”

 

Byulyi shoots Yongsun a look, but it is one of resignation rather than indignation. Given the persistence of the two younger girls, she is inclined to agree.

 

“Okay, wait. Hold up. We have another score to settle,” Yongsun jumps as Hyejin slams a fist into the table. A pregnant silence follows, Hyejin scrutinizing them both with a careful, probing eye.

 

“Who tops, and who bottoms?”

 

“Why you little-!”

 

(And just like that, they were back to normal, in this new normal of theirs.)


End file.
